


Winterland

by LadyCorvidae, roseforthethorns



Series: Watch the World Burn [10]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Biting, Blood, Lost Love, M/M, Misunderstanding, Murder Husbands, New Jobs, Nightmares, Pain, Pining, Reconciliation, Self starving, Skiing, Snow, Wasting away, disguises, fight, mental issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-24
Updated: 2012-09-26
Packaged: 2017-11-14 23:07:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/520460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyCorvidae/pseuds/LadyCorvidae, https://archiveofourown.org/users/roseforthethorns/pseuds/roseforthethorns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What is intended as a second honeymoon becomes anything but when a misunderstanding may actually destroy them this time.</p><p>(I own nothing of these characters. All Sherlock rights go to the BBC, Moffat, and Gatiss. I'm just having some fun.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Gone

**Author's Note:**

> Well, this is not what we planned when we set out to write on my birthday. We were aiming for a smutty one-shot... aaaaaaaaaand got this instead. Thanks to my Jim, ladycorvidae. Yeah, we both are responsible for this.

In the months after Jim's wings healed, the two fell into a reasonably easy routine, bouncing between husbands and lovers and Boss and employee, the empire running stronger than ever, and their relationship solid, complete. Everything was fine until one job very nearly went south, and both of them wound up in mortal danger.

Jim dragged himself from the smoldering wreckage, his suit ripped and stained, a bloody scrape on his forehead. Seb was standing some feet away, one arm cradling his favorite sniper rifle, the other hanging by his side, dripping blood off the glove-clad hand. They managed to get in the car and get home, patching each other up with much cursing and gnashing of teeth. When they were sufficiently bandaged and intoxicated (this had been a four-Scotch problem), Jim suggested something. "Tiger... less go somewhere... _away_. I dunno... like the Alps or somfin'. Proper honeymoon after that shite in Belize."

"Ssounds gud t'me, Jimmmmmmy," Seb slurred, slouching back in their favorite sofa with his good arm holding his husband close.

 Jim cuddled into Seb, taking in his scent, mixed with that of the sterile smell of ointment and bandages and the tang of Scotch. "Mhm. Swiss Alps. Go skiing. Downhill slopes... wheeeeeeee..." he said, lifting his arms and giggling.

"Yur _drunk_ , Boss," Seb giggled, holding him tighter, more for reassurance than anything.

"So'r you, Tiger," Jim slurred. "Now shaddap. Jussss wanna sleep. N' cuddle. Cuddlin's good," he said, molding his body to Seb's.

"I gotcha, Jimmy-mine." Pressing kisses to the top of the criminal's head, Seb drifted off into an alcohol and exhaustion induced stupor, dreaming of snow and skiing and safety for once.

oOoOo

Three days later, they were aboard a private jet en route to Switzerland, a private chateau in the Alps. They landed and got in the car, taking the scenic route up to the lodge where they'd be staying. The sky was steely gray, and there were little snowflakes drifting down, threatening a proper blizzard later. Jim found their room, the fire blazing merrily behind its screen, illuminating the tiger-skin rug on the floor. His eyebrows went up; he'd have to use that later. He smirked as Seb followed him. "Family member?" he joked, gesturing to the rug with his chin.

The sniper took a closer look at the skin, examining it with a practiced eye. "One of mine, actually," he answered, surprised.

"Really! Well, that _is_ fortuitous. I get to take the Tiger on one of his namesake kills. How... _befitting_ ," he purred.

Groaning softly, Seb walked up behind Jim and hugged him tight. "And who says _you_ get to do the taking? Hmmm? After all... _I'm_ the Tiger in the room," he murmured, briefly kissing Jim's ear and tugging the lobe before stepping away.

The younger man chuckled low in his throat. "Because _I'm_ the Boss. Now let's go skiing before the weather turns to absolute shit. Come along, Seb."

"'Come along?' _Really_? God, you're such a twelve-year-old," the blonde grumbled, but there was no venom in his voice as he bundled up appropriately for the weather and followed Jim downstairs.

Jim suited up, found the skis, and headed out for the slopes. "You ever been skiing, Tiger?" he asked as he strapped his boots in.

"Yeah, plenty of times-" Seb started to say, getting distracted when he tripped over a hidden rock and face planted in the snow. He didn't get up immediately, contenting himself to roll in it instead, whooping with joy as he hadn't in a very, very long time.

Jim blinked and watched as he saw his husband turn from a dangerous sniper with a skilled hand to a giant six-year-old in the space of three seconds. "... Seb... Seb, _what_ are you doing?" he asked.

"I'm rolling in the snow!"

"I... can see that. _Why_?"

"Because. It's. _Fun_. Look, Boss! Tiger in the snow!!"

Jim sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I do believe you've snapped."

"Purr purr murder purr."

That was it; Jim lost it. He started laughing, doubled over with the force of his mirth. "Okay, now I _know_ you've snapped. My vacation and second honeymoon idea came too late to save your sanity," he finally managed to say.

"But I'm a _Tiger_. Your Tiger, no less," Seb replied, staring up at Jim from his place in the snowdrift. "I'm a cat so I purr, and I kill for you, so murder. And my brain is _just fine_. Your sanity is the one I worry about."

Jim rolled his eyes and started going down the slope to meet Seb. However, it had been a very long time since he had last gone skiing, and he lost control, going head-over-heels and landing face-down in the snowdrift about three feet away from Seb. Now Sebastian lost it, beating the snow with a fist and howling with laughter. Climbing up, he made his way over to Jim, offering hi hand. "C'mon, y'big idiot. Back up the mountain."

Jim took Seb's hand and instead of helping him up, tugged Seb down and popped up before going up the slope as best he could, snickering as he buried Seb's face in the snow. He knew that the blonde would get up and catch up with him, but he'd get as much of a head start as he could. Growling, Sebastian crawled out of the drift and practically flew up the slope, easily overtaking Jim and tripping him on his way by. The criminal went down again, snarling as he popped up out of the drift. Freeing himself from his cumbersome skis, he caught up with Seb and pushed him over, laughing triumphantly as he rolled him down the hill with a quick shove.

"OI YOU WANKER!!!!!!"

Jim was still laughing at the top of the hill. "Can't catch meee!" he sang down to Seb, his voice mocking.

"YOU! FUCKING! WANKER!" the blonde roared through mouthfuls of snow, tumbling back down the snow and skidding to a stop on his face.

Jim laughed so hard that he sat down in the snow, holding his sides. "A powdered Tiger!" he gasped out. Snarling and taking sharp gasps of freezing air, Seb crawled up from the hole, strapped on his skis, and hopped the lift, blatantly ignoring his husband on his way up the hill. Jim joined him moments later.

"Oh, come on now, don't be like that, Sebby. You know it's all in fun," Jim said as he dusted some of the snow off of Seb's hat.

'M not speaking t'you," he muttered, staring the other way.

Jim frowned. "Fine," he said. "Go on and sulk. I'll go back and change our shared room into separate suites," he finished, looking away as well.

"No! Jim... no, please don't do that."

"Thought you weren't speaking to me."

"You're a right proper arse, aren't you?"

"You're the one who's taking this too seriously!"

"You shoved me down a fucking hill! Just to beat me to the top!"

"You started it!"

" _I_ started this?! I did nothing of the sort, you wanker. Fine. Go back and separate our rooms like we're Boss and employee again. Thought that band on your finger meant more. Guess not."

Jim whipped around to face Seb, his eyes blazing with anger and hurt. "Don't you fucking _dare_ accuse me of not loving you. Don't you _dare_."

"And why shouldn't I? You're _always_ turning everything into a fucking contest! EVERYTHING! Nothing is easy, and yeah I kinda like it that way because you keep me on my toes, but even _this_. Our _relationship_ is based on me loving you _more_ than you love me. We both know it. I proposed first, I had the ring made when you were imprisoned by Mycroft, and I kept my feelings secret from you, or as secret as I could for nearly THREE FUCKING YEARS!"

Jim let out a sharp breath. Then he let out a short laugh. "Right. I see it now. I'm Jim the Monster, the unfeeling psychopath. I get it. Fine. Guess it doesn't matter then, that I razed a town to _get you back_. That I _still_ have nightmares about you dying, about not getting there quick enough. It doesn't matter that I would fucking _rip this world apart_ to get to you. That you are the first and only person that I've ever loved. I see. Thank you, Seb. Thanks for clearing that up," he said, his voice hollow.

The sniper's anger drained out through his boots, the actuality of what he'd spoken punching through the haze that had taken over his mind. "Oh fuck... I didn't mean... _fuck_." Hopping off the lift, Seb took off down the slope, leaving Jim alone to his thoughts and before he went and hurt the man he loved even more.

Jim blinked as he saw Seb speed down the slope. He exited the ski lift in a haze, made his way back to the room, feeling his way along the walls like a blind man. When he got to the room, he uttered a short chuckle, which became a long laugh, which turned into hysterical crying.

"Of course. Of fucking _course_. Of course he wouldn't love me enough. God, what a fucking _idiot_ I am," he murmured. He ran his hands through his hair and felt the cold weight of the ring on his finger. "So much for this," he snarled, wrenching it off. "Everyone _always_ leaves. Why should he be any different?" He went to throw it aside but he couldn't, placing it instead on the pillow and walking out, slamming the door behind him as he went to get as far away from the room as he possibly could.

Once he was calm enough to face Jim, Seb trudged back to the lodge, cold and wet and anxious to just go back to normal when his heart stopped.

Jim's ring was on the pillow, and his husband was nowhere to be found.

Forcing himself to breathe, Seb slowly walked over to the bed, picking up the metal; his heart sank when he realized it was cold to the touch. "No. Nononononononono _no_ ," he gasped, sinking to the floor. "I... this is _my_ fault. I... _no_. JIM!"

oOoOo

Jim sank back into the seat of the plane and fired off a text.

_You are hereby released from any and all duties, effective immediately. Your belongings will be at the flat. Do not try to contact me. -JM_

Sebastian jumped when his mobile buzzed, scrambling for it and opening the text. His eyes went wide, and all the blood drained from his face.

_The fuck are you playing at? -SM_

**_The number you have tried to reach is unlisted. Please try a different number._ **

"No no NO!!!!" Seb dialed, muttering under his breath. "Pick up. Pick _up_ you fucker."

The phone rang and rang and rang. Finally, the receiver picked up.

"Jim?!"

"We're sorry, the number you have dialed has been disconnected. Please hang up and try again!" the overly cheery female recording stated.

The blonde was shaking as he hung up, resisting the urge to smash the mobile into a million pieces. He'd done it. After everything they'd been through, he'd finally fucked up so bad that he'd lost Jim. He'd lost the center of his universe; the man had _actually_ released him from his job. But...

Ten minutes later, he was in a cab to the airport. He had one shot at this, one shot to fix it, the metal of Jim's ring nearly burning his skin where it rested with his dog tags under his shirt. He would figure this out. He had to. If not... then his life wasn't worth anything anymore.


	2. Separated

The man in the impeccable Westwood suit looked as cool and collected as ice, but on the inside, he was a raw and screaming mess. He sat silently in the back of the posh black car, radiating misery and anger like a miasma. He went back up to the flat that he and Seb shared, his own things already moved out; he couldn't bear to live here any longer, not after this. The consulting criminal picked up a scrap of paper and a pen, using the wall as a table.

_"You are welcome to continue to use this flat. Your severance pay should more than cover its upkeep and rent."_

Jim swallowed hard, fighting against the wild screaming and wailing that wanted to burst from his throat. He settled for driving his fist into a wall instead, the plaster denting under the force of the blow, his knuckles splitting open and leaving bloodied imprints in the paint. He left his key on the kitchen counter and slammed the door, heading downstairs and getting back into the car and instructing the driver to take him to the new location.

He didn't look back.

oOoOo

Barely an hour later, Seb came crashing through the door, eyes widening and heart breaking. Everything that was Jim's, that they had shared, that they had replaced after his destructive years, was gone. The only things left were his clothes, a few towels, training equipment, his arsenal, and some DVDs. Hot, thick tears started pouring from his eyes, a raw howl of anguish tearing from him as he whirled around to punch the wall... and stopped.

There, right below where his fist would have fallen, was a bloodied indent.

Seb stooped to examine it, and yep, it was Jim's handiwork all right. Casting about the flat for something, anything, he saw the scrap of paper where it had fallen. Snatching it, he read through the message, words jumping out at him.

_"This flat"_

_"Severance Pay"_

_"Upkeep"_

Storming to Jim's office, he wasn't surprised to find everything gone. He couldn't even trace Jim through the CCTV, couldn't contact him... _wait_.

Jim had a criminal empire. Jim would be looking for recruits after firing his right hand man.

Seb could do that. Seb could do that very well.


	3. Interview

Two weeks had gone by.

Jim didn't speak unless he had to and was increasingly violent in his managing of the empire, going through lackeys the way other people went through tissues. He sighed as he looked through his itinerary for the day; he had at least four people trying out for sniper positions: Adriana Chernova, Karl Jensen, Rick Fontaine... dull, dull, _dull_. But he had to fill the position that Seb... _no_. He couldn't even think that name, not now, not ever again. He gritted his teeth and let out a long breath. Time to begin. He gestured and had the first candidate sent in.

Disguised to the nines, paperwork forged, accent perfected, gait changed, contacts in, hair dyed and given an army crew cut, Seb strode into the meeting with a swagger of disregard and flopped into the chair opposite Jim, blatantly ignoring the clenching of his heart to see the other man. He looked far to pale and _way_ too thin, the circles under his brown eyes and the twitching of his lip true indicators of how he was coping.

"So... Mister..." the consulting criminal checked the list, "Jensen. What makes you think you are good enough to be my sniper?"

"Been in the army for ages, bit of a good shot if I say so myself, and I don't give a crap about where I work or who for. I do know who you are and like what you do, and I want in."

Jim raised an eyebrow. "Right. Any other qualifications that I should know about... foreign languages you know, degrees held, whatnot. Be quick. I don't tolerate laziness."

"I can assemble and disassemble every single type of firearm on and off the market in less than ten minutes, five under pressure. I speak four languages fluently and can get by in at least ten others. Never graduated Uni, but got top grades in my science and physics A-levels and have been in the army for a very long time. I can hunt, I can fight, and I can protect." Seb rattled off his qualifications with practiced ease, silently congratulating himself on not tripping over his tongue. This needed to work; it had to work.

"Very well. All I care about is that you get the job done right, get it done quick, and you never, _ever_ question my orders. If you do... you _will_ be replaced," the Irishman growled. "Congratulations. You have the job."

Nodding curtly, Seb reached out his hand to shake on it, but Jim stood and turned his back. "Get out. I'll call you should I need a job done."

Heart clenching painfully, Seb turned to leave, but paused at the door. "Thank you, James Moriarty. For giving me a chance." Then he was gone.

The door clicked shut, leaving Jim alone in the room. "You're welcome."

oOoOo

His first job came three days later, a simple text with the name, time, and address of the mark, almost like old times; Seb executed it with absolute precision, not a foul up or witness to speak of, but it hurt more than he could say to not get Jim's worried texts about being careful or his little jibes about being late, fouling up, how loud he'd make Seb scream when he got home. Both of their rings were on the dog tag chain against his heart, and his finger felt bare and vulnerable without the Tiger's Eye band.

Jim went about his business even more quietly than usual. Jensen was working out well; he was a _hell_ of a good shot and he kept things professional. Good. The last thing he needed was getting fouled up in things again. Better no heart at all, anyway.

oOoOo

Trying to figure out how to say sorry was killing Seb. He'd gone through every possible permutation of a plan he could think of, but all involved knowledge that he had as Jensen, not as Sebastian, so after three months of this, he was starting to lose hope.

There was a mark that required... taking care of, but unfortunately, this one was different as it also required Jim's presence. Jensen was there as usual, and the job went off without a hitch. The consulting criminal was impressed; the shot was tricky and required massive amounts of skill to make. "Very well done," he said as they left. "Good job, Seb." He paled as he heard what had just come out of his mouth. "Shit. Sorry. _Karl_. Good job, _Karl_."

The sniper started, whirling around to face the smaller man. "No, what did you call me?"

Jim bristled. "Don't want to talk about it," he snapped, climbing into the black car waiting for them.

"Please. I... I'd like to hear about him," Seb said softly, shutting the door behind him. _It's me! Can't you see that? I know I'm in disguise, but it's_ me!

The criminal let out a long sigh. "My... husband. Or ex husband. I don't know. Only person I ever loved. Yours is the position he held. Don't worry, I'm not intending to make you my romantic conquest... I'm done with that. Learned my lesson good and proper," he said, ending with a bitter chuckle.

"What happened, if it's not too... to bold to ask. He must've been a great fool to give up someone like you."

"We had an argument. He accused me of not loving him. I retorted. He left me. End of story."

"How do you know he left? He might've been trying to blow off steam so as not to hurt you again." _I'm a fucking moron, stupid with words, he thought I_ left _him. I could never do that._ Never.

"Then he should have _said so_. Not left me alone! Now shut up. You were doing _so_ well before you opened your mouth," Jim said through clenched teeth.

"I'm sorry! I'll not ask again. Forgive me, Boss. I'm... I'm sorry." Seb stared at his feet, part of him waiting for the death shot and part of him aching to reach out and hold the man he loved. _Should I say something? Should I do it now_?

Jim nodded curtly and turned to gaze out the window. There was a long, long moment of silence, and then he took a deep breath. "You've no idea how much it hurts, Jensen. Like your insides have been scooped out, and there's this dull, agonizing ache. Take my advice; don't fall in love. It'll just end badly," he said as the car rolled to a stop. "I should have left well enough alone, but I didn't. And see where it's gotten me. An empty flat, an empty bed and an empty chest. He said he loved me, and then he _left_. God, I'm such an idiot." He opened the door and started to get out. "I'll contact you when we have our next job."

"I'm so sorry, Jimmy."

The muzzle of a handgun was pressed to Karl's forehead between his eyes in two seconds flat. "Call me that _again_ , and your _brains_ will be decorating the interior of the car."

Swallowing hard, Seb closed his eyes, breathing deeply. "Apologies, Boss. Must've slipped out. Will never happen again. I give you my word as a soldier and as your loyal servant."

"Good. Carry on." The door slammed, and once again, Jim was gone.


	4. Thirteen

The months dragged on, Sebastian watching as Jim wasted away before his eyes. The Irishman avoided hits with the sniper after the slip up, but he would often bring the larger man with him when he needed personal protection. Ever the soldier, Seb was very, very careful to guard his tongue from then on, but every day he saw Jim was another day that his heart broke apart. Too much more of this would kill him, but he couldn't figure out any way to ask for help. He was utterly helpless and trapped, the guilt of his actions and stupidity and the just plain, shitty luck of the two of them trying to honeymoon depriving him of sleep.

oOoOo

Thirteen months after the ski lodge fiasco, there was a job which required Jim to go with Karl as his personal bodyguard. It went down in flames; Jim was fine, but Karl was soaked in blood from head to toe, having knifed a man who had been charging his Boss. "We're going back to my flat; it's five minutes from here. You can wash up when you're there," Jim said.

"Fuckerswannaskinthemforrugs," the sniper growled, wiping blood from his eyes. Then Jithe younger man's words sank in. "We're WHAT?"

"At my flat now. Come on. Shower and change, then you can go. You deserve the rest of the day off for that," Jim said as he escorted him to the elevator, then to the fifteenth floor.

"I-I don't-this isn't-sir, with all due respect-"

"Oh shut up. I'm not coming on to you."

"Believe me, that's the _last_ thing I'm worried about."

"Then _relax_. You're too valuable to me for me to kill you. Now go wash up before it starts to coagulate."

"F-fine." Shutting down the urge to panic, Seb shut the door to the bathroom behind him and slowly stripped, his blood-soaked clothes falling into a pile on the floor while he let the water heat up. Keeping his chain with the tags and rings on, the sniper stepped into the shower, groaning as the hot water washed all traces of the scuffle away, his mind already focused on how to get out without Jim suspecting who he was.

oOoOo

The consulting criminal sighed as he sank into the great black chair in the study, a tumbler of whiskey in one hand. He downed half of it in one go, wincing as the potent drink burned its way down his throat. "God, that's good," he said, his voice slightly hoarse afterwards.

oOoOo

Ten minutes later, Seb stepped from the shower, carefully toweling off and glancing in the mirror.

Well _fuck_.

His makeup and disguise was spotty at best, but he managed to touch it up in a way that would hold up if he weren't held under close scrutiny. The contacts were killing him, but his blue eyes would be a dead giveaway, better to stick with the safety of brown. "Hey Boss! Need some clothes if you would be so kind! My hit bag should have a spare set!"

Jim rolled his eyes. "Get them yourself. I'm not your errand boy."

"You want me walking around your flat naked?"

"You have a towel, and we're both men. Not like it's nothing I haven't seen before."

 _Well, no, but you have no idea how true that is_. Gritting his teeth, Seb darted from the bathroom and snatched his hit bag before spinning on his heel to dart back, the towel firmly around his waist. Jim smirked as he saw his new sniper streak past. Then he frowned as something metallic caught his eye. "Stop. Come back here and turn around," he ordered, a cold pit of fear and despair growing in his gut. _It couldn't be_.

Seb felt like ice cubes were sliding down his spine. Gripping his bag in one hand, he slowly approached Jim, wishing like mad that he had his clothes on. The criminal carefully trained his face into an expression of neutrality. "Where. Did you. Get. _That_?" he asked, his voice level. He could barely hear himself though, for the roaring in his ears.

Sebastian glanced down at the chain, realization freezing him. "H-had them-it-them for-for ages, Boss." He couldn't even look Jim in the eye.

"I see. And was his body still warm when you took them from him? WAS IT?!" Jim yelled, not even noting when the glass in his hand shattered from the force of his grip.

"Sir, I didn't-you think I-I didn't _kill_ Colonel Sebastian Moran-"

"HE WOULD NEVER HAVE TAKEN THEM OFF. NOT EVER," he roared, red searing his vision as he charged the man, knocking him down, his blood-slick hand at the other man's throat. "So, when did you kill him, you motherfucking _bastard_. When _exactly_ did you kill him?"

"He died when he saw your ring on your pillow in the lodge, Magpie, when your mobile rejected his number, when he returned to London and you were _gone_. His insides were scooped out and burned when you left him because he was too stupid and moronic to say that he was sorry, that he didn't mean it because he could see on your face how much he'd hurt you... how-how much _I_ had hurt you."

Jim threw himself back as if the man beneath him had suddenly become white-hot. "Get out. Get _out_."

"No, Jim. I'm not leaving."

"You already did once. A second time will make no difference."

"I DIDN'T LEAVE, YOU FUCKING MORON!"

"THEN WHY THE FUCK DID YOU LEAVE ME ALONE ON THE LIFT? I THOUGHT YOU HAD _GONE_. THAT YOU HAD LEFT ME FOR _GOOD_. BECAUSE I WASN'T-" he paused and his face crumpled, "-because I wasn't _enough_."

Ripping the contacts out of his eyes, Seb sank to his knees, his clear, blue gaze staring up submissively at Jim. "I didn't want to risk saying something utterly _stupid_. You _know_ I suck at words when angry, and I say stuff I don't mean. I was _stupid_ , a moron. I took this job to try and get close again, even to just be near you because... you didn't see when I got back, when I saw your ring. I broke, Jimmy. I thought you'd left me, and then you fired me..." He started crying, the anguish of events more than one year old now making him want to die even more than usual. "I'm faithful, loyal. I'm your Seb. I'm your _Tiger_." Looking back up through his tears, he finished, "You are _more_ than enough, James. You are better than I _ever_ deserved, than I do deserve. So please, either take me back or kill me now. I can't watch you die anymore."

Jim barked a hollow laugh, his brown eyes dead and icy. "I've been dead for a _long_ time."

"Then kill me. Just let me do something first." Removing the chain from his neck, Seb slipped his Tiger's Eye ring on his own finger and set Jim's platinum and ruby band on the table. Replacing the chain around his neck, he folded his hands behind his head and turned his back on his husband.

Something inside the consulting criminal snapped; that damned pose had haunted his nightmares since Belize, since his mind had done nothing but imagine Sebastian being executed by the Cartel. Jim was on Seb in a heartbeat, whispering "Nonononono _no_ ", a mad mantra as he held his husband tight.

Gathering Jim in his arms, pressing him to his heart, Seb shifted, leaning back against the wall and cradling the smaller man. "I'm here. I'm safe. I've done _nothing_ but love you, Jimmy."

The dam broke and Jim shook like a young tree in a high wind, a soft and broken wail escaping him as he sobbed like his heart was breaking.

"Shhhhh, love. My Jimmy, my all, it's _me_. I've been here the whole time." Seb pressed feather kisses to the criminal's hair, taking deep breaths of his scent. "I'd never leave. I'd tear the universe apart for you. My everything, remember?"

Jim nodded, still weeping. "My Seb... my _Seb_. My Tiger, my heart..."

"Sebby's here." Pulling his towel up, the sniper used it to dry Jim's face, his own tears ignored in everything. "Never do that to me again. I thought... I thought I'd lost you for good this time. I _can't_ live without you."

"Nor can I. I wasn't living, I was _existing_."

"I was watching. It made my heart ache. I wanted so badly in that interview to tell you. I thought if you just shook my hand..."

"I didn't want to touch anything or anyone at that point. And you did your job so well that I don't think I would have known, even if I _had_ shaken your hand."

"I kept your ring by my skin, even when I slept. I never took it off. And I couldn't wear mine. M'hand felt so bare without it." Reaching around where his lover was pasted to him, Seb picked up Jim's ring. "May I?"

" _Please_."

Gingerly taking the Irishman's left hand, Seb slid the ring on it, wincing as it slid around the bony digit. "With this ring, I thee wed, for better or worse, even if the other guys blow up the world, you're my soul-soul mate f-forever."

Jim let out a long sigh as he rested his head against Seb's shoulder, breathing in his familiar scent, dragging his lips lightly along the skin.

"Thank God... and I know you don't believe, but just this once... _just_ this once, I'm gonna thank him. And you gotta start eating again, Jim. Here." He took off his tags a second time, slipping the ring from Jim's finger and easing the chain with the addition of the ring around his husband's neck. "Until we can re-size it or I get some meat back on your bones."

"Second one. It'd just be a bitch to resize it _again_ after I gain the weight back," Jim grumbled.

"Okay then." Slowly standing and keeping Jim cradled in his arms, Seb walked through to the kitchen, not caring that he was stark naked. Setting Jim on the island in the middle of the room, the sniper rummaged through the cupboards and fridge for enough supplies to make tomato soup and grilled cheese with a large bottle of the finest Cabernet to drink.

Jim snickered, the first time he had truly laughed in over a year. "Perched me like I'm a bird, you did," he said.

"Don't want you flying away now. Besides, gotta start fattening you up. Tiger's a hungry kitty." He gave Jim a small smile while he stirred what would become the soup. "But... seriously, Jimmy... I... could you please go get my bag? I know I still cut a fine figure, but I really wanna be dressed. Just... just come back."

Jim nodded, walking off to get the bag, grabbing at it with his injured hand, hissing and cursing softly under his breath as he swiftly switched and brought the clothes to Seb in the kitchen.

Seb turned to thank him, suddenly noticing his hand. "What did I miss? _How_ did I- first aid kit. NOW, Jim!" The sniper threw on his clothes as fast as he could, making sure the food didn't catch fire. "Moron. Did a bullet graze you? Is that what happened? I thought that was the slimeball's blood on you."

"No, you idiot. I... ah... I crushed the glass of whiskey in my hand when I thought you were still Jensen and that the... the necklace was taken..." he let the words die, the last part _off your body_ hanging in the air.

"I missed that... Jimmy, c'mere." Thankfully, what he needed was in his own kit in the hit bag, so while making sure their dinner was fine, Sebastian plucked glass from Jim's hand and then bandaged it up, sitting him on the island to do so. "There. All better."

Jim bit his lip. "Kiss it to make it better?" he asked, almost shy.

Suddenly blushing, Sebastian bent down and pressed a tender kiss to the bandage, gingerly holding Jim's hand. "If I kiss your lips right now, I'll burn the flat down, James."

"Then turn off the soup. That can wait."

The sniper obeyed the order, taking a quick moment to wash his face off in the sink, the last vestiges of his makeup and disguise going down the drain.

Jim stared, his gaze almost going through the man at the sink. "You look so _weird_ with dark hair," he finally said.

A slight smirk tugged at his lip. "Well, had t'make sure you couldn't recognize me somehow. Blonde curls are a bit of a dead giveaway. Can' wait t'grow 'em back out again."

"Mmm," Jim hummed. Letting out a long sigh, he cast his eyes around for something. When he found it, he picked it up, lifted it high, then prodded his bandaged hand with the fork... _hard_. "MOTHERCUNTING WHORESON!"

Seb spun around, eyes wide, heart pounding in his ears. "What happened?! You okay?!" His natural tan shone on his skin now.

Jim hissed as blood bloomed under the whiteness of the bandage and began to leak out and between his fingers. "Had to be sure it was real."

"You fucking _idiot_!" Pulling the kit back out of his bag, Seb rebandaged the hand, checking the wounds and adding a few tiny stitches this time. "Okay, you fucking moron. Gotta rest this hand and let it heal. And of course it's bloody real. It's only been... it's only-only been... thirteen months." The gravity of the time they'd technically been apart started to weigh on his shoulders, making his body shudder slightly. "From now on, no more honeymoons."

Jim chuckled wryly. "Agreed."

"Now, do you still want that kiss? I really want to get some food in you and then bring you back to your _real_ home. And nothing's broken this time, except where you punched the wall. Couldn't bring myself to fill it in."

"Of course I want that kiss. Moron."

"Fucker."

"Bitch."

"Jerk."

"Wanker."

"Arse-hat."

"My love."

Startled, Seb stared, drifting forward until he was standing with Jim's legs on either side of him. "My heart," he replied.

"My soul, my all, my everything..."

"Shut the fuck up and kiss me," he growled, seizing Jim's face and crashing their lips together. The Irishman returned it with all the strength and breath and fire he had in him, cradling Seb's face in his hands as they kissed, animalistic as always.

"Taste... so good... _fuck_... missed this..."

"Missed... you... too. Now shut up," Jim panted, holding Seb to him as close as he possibly could.

"'Mkay." The sniper poured himself into the kisses, taking his time in re-learning Jim's mouth, mapping out all of the little pleasure spots that he could reach with his tongue. "Wh-where... can I... mark?"

"Anywhere. Everywhere. Doesn't matter, you've come back to me."

"I never left." Licking his way to Jim's neck, Seb sucked a dark purple bruise to the skin just beneath his husband's jaw. " _Mine_ ," he hissed. "All _mine_."

"Always. Always, always, _always_."

"Bed. Need a bed. Wanna mark you everywhere... want you inside me."

Jim let out a shiver and groaned. "Hallway. Second door. Turn off the stove first."

"I did, before the kiss. I love you, James. I love, love, love, _love_ you." Scooping Jim into his arms, he bolted down the hall, kicking the door open and throwing Jim into the bed. He shut the door behind them and locked it, stripping and then stalking forward, climbing onto the bed after his husband. "Don't get used to this room. You're moving back _home_ tomorrow."

"Done," Jim said, staring at Seb with pure want in his eyes.

The former blonde kissed the Irishman's lips again, drinking him in, thirteen months of hurt and pining washing away. There would be fighting to come and arguments over love and loyalty, but for the moment, they were together. As soon as Jim's shirt and tie and jacket were off, Seb's mouth went to work, leaving as many bruises as he could manage on the man's pale skin. He winced visibly at the prominence of Jim's ribs, his tongue trailing along each one. "Not been this skinny since after the Fall, Magpie."

"Well, I was pretty much doing the same thing, going without you for extended amounts of time."

"Y'still gotta eat," he murmured, running his teeth along one of the sharper ribs before kissing back up to Jim's nipples and sucking on each of them in turn, reveling in his ability to make the man go boneless and start whimpering with pleasure.

Jim threw his head back and gasped sharply as Seb began his sensual torture with his tongue. "Eating's... boring," he managed to say.

"Keeps you... alive... retard," Seb shot back, flicking the nipple he was currently abusing with the tip of his tongue repeatedly before blowing on it.

The smaller man whimpered. "Not worth it if you're not there."

Fighting a wave of insecurity sooner than he wanted to, Seb moved to hover once more over Jim, his blue eyes shining with tears as he gazed down into the perfect brown ones of his lover. "I will apologize for what happened there until Judgment Day, Jimmy. I _never_ want to see you  so broken again because of me. I-I broke my _vow_."

"You did. But I forgive you. You've come back to me, and that's all that matters."

"Punish me, Jimmy. _Please_. I don't care how, but... _please_. Show me I didn't destroy you completely, that you aren't broken."

"Punish later. Fucking now."

Covering Jim's lips once more with his own, Seb divested him of the expensive trousers and silk pants. Then he went back to kissing Jim's body, leaving a few more love bites on the man's hips and the inside of his thighs.

Jim whined and arched as he felt Seb's mouth on his skin. "Please, Sebby... _please_... "

"Want you, Jimmy... want you inside me."

Jim growled and dragged Seb up by the hair, flipping him and pinning him so that he was underneath. "You want me? _Fine_ ," he said, his voice in Seb's ear. He nipped at the earlobe and strung harsh little bites down his neck as he went for the lube and slicked himself up. Mewling and whimpering, Seb writhed beneath his husband's mouth, spreading his legs as wide as he could. His scalp stung slightly, but that was a very small price to pay.

Not bothering to use his fingers, Jim pressed inwards, going as slow as he could possibly go. Seb was _tight_ after more than a year without this, Jim filling him deliciously, forcing his muscles to shift and accommodate, the pleasurepain spiking through his body. The sniper threw his head back against the pillows, submitting completely, his face screwed up against the invasion.

Jim hissed through his clenched teeth. " _God_ , you're so fucking _tight_ ," he growled. "Relax, Tiger-mine. Don't want to hurt you."

"T-trying... j-just love you... want you... in me... always." He gave a slow exhale, managing to relax a bit and let Jim slide the rest of the way inside.

The criminal moaned as he sunk into Seb to the hilt, stopping and letting his husband adjust. He rested his head against Seb's chest, hearing his lover's rapid heartbeat, pressing kisses to his sternum.

"Move, fuck you. D-don't just s-stay there. Fuck me. Make. Me. _Scream_."

" _Gladly_." Jim pulled out nearly all the way and drove back in with a snap of his hips, before setting a hard and fast rhythm.

"YES!" Seb roared, rocking down to meet the man, his hands threading through Jim's perfectly styled hair, pulling it free of its gel confines and running his fingers through it. Jim snarled as he went faster, harder, driving into Seb as deep as he could. He bent his head and closed his lips around one of Seb's nipples, capturing it between his teeth and tugging slightly, flicking it with his tongue.

"JIM!" he yelled, arching up against his lover's mouth. "Oh-god-don't- _stop_."

He moved his head to the other one, repeating his actions as he continued to thrust, then slipped his hand in between the two of them to stroke and tug on Seb's cock, caressing it, moaning as it filled his hand, hot and slick.

"G-gonna... yes... like that... harder... love... you... _James_." The name slipped from his lips in a prayer as he came, covering their bellies with his release while Jim continued fucking him, pounding him and making the bed rock violently. Jim groaned Seb's name as he came shortly afterwards, spilling into his husband. When he had caught his breath, he pulled out and began kissing his way down Seb's torso before he started cleaning up the mess Seb had made with his clever tongue.

It was almost more than he could handle, his first real orgasm in thirteen months coupled with watching Jim lap up his seed. "Ohgod... oh my _god_."

Jim chuckled low in his throat as he continued to work, pressing soft kisses in between the lapping of his tongue. Finally, when he was finished, he wiped himself off with the bed sheet and crawled his way back up to curl next to Seb, his body pressed into the reassuring warmth and size of his husband.

"That... you are... _Jimmy_ , don't leave me. I don't wanna wake up and have this be the dream and Karl Jensen be the reality again."

"Not gonna leave you, Tiger," Jim murmured, wrapping his arms around Seb, nuzzling into his lover as the sweat dried on their skin.

"So... holidays are... out of the question, huh?"

"Only Belize and the Swiss Alps, I think."

"Where could we go that _wouldn't_ get me captured or one of us leaving the other, then?"

"There's always Paris... or Russia. Or Australia. Hell, we could even go to Scotland."

"You in Scotland? You're _Irish_ , Jimmy."

"What of it? Plenty of Irish people go to Scotland. Not to mention there's Scotch there..."

The sniper chuckled weakly, tucking Jim in more securely against him, spooning him. "Y'know the way t'my heart. Blood and fucking and alcohol. Keeps me coming back... that, and I can't keep my hands off you."

"Nor I from you, my Tiger. My most perfect killer, my blood-soaked lover," Jim said, his voice both proud and fond as he ran his fingers through Seb's now-shorter hair.

Leaning into the touch, Seb started purring, wrapping his arms around Jim. "Feeding you later. Gonna fatten you up, luv. I'll be the witch from that fairy tale."

He snorted. "Did that one once... didn't end well, remember?"

"Doesn't mean I won't try. I want you to be mine as long as possible. We've lost four years. I won't lose any more time. Not if I can do something about it."

Jim nodded. "Not gonna leave again. Not if I can help it. Love you, Sebby," he said, his voice growing quieter as he dropped off to sleep, the first real sleep he had had in over a year.

Sebastian kept vigil all night, breathing him in, even holding him through the nightmares that had him screaming and thrashing. A few well-placed whispers and a tight hug had the man relaxing once more, but Seb was shaken. Jim hadn't suffered nightmares since the wing incident... his _wings_.

He could feel the gorgeous, raised skin with his fingertips. His heart ached and _hurt_ , but he knew they'd get through it. They always did sooner or later. He just hoped, for the sake of his younger lover, that it was sooner.


	5. Sworn

Jim woke up when he heard Seb's breathing change from the evenness of deep sleep to shorter, panting breaths. He rolled over and saw him twitching in his sleep, his eyes flickering rapidly under the closed lids. Dreaming. Then he saw his furrowed brow and the beads of sweat on it. He swallowed hard. Not a dream: _Nightmare_.

_Slipping the ring on his finger, Seb turns away from Jim and laces his fingers behind his head. "So please, either take me back or kill me now. I can't watch you die anymore." He hears the gun cock, feels the cold metal-_

_BANG_

Jim swallowed hard and wrapped his arms around his lover. "Seb... Seb, I'm here..." he murmured softly.

"Jimmy... no... nonono... too late... can't tell you..."

"Seb... Seb, wake up. Wake _up_."

"I didn't leave... never left... didn't wanna fuck up more... stupid mouth... pretending... just pretending to be Karl... can't tell you... oh _Jimmy_."

"You already told me. I'm here, I know. I love you, Sebby. _Wake up_!"

Blue eyes snapped open, the tears spilling instantly. "I c-can't anymore. Can't be without you."

Jim shivered as the blue eyes looked _through_ him rather than _at_ him. "I know. I'm _here_ , love. I'm here, my Tiger," he murmured.

"I'm gonna see you at work t'day. Y'aren't gonna know it's me."

Jim made a soft noise of annoyance. "You told me already. We're in bed together, after I fucked you senseless."

"Y'told me months ago about me, dunno why you can't see it's me. Never thought you'd fall for the disguise... the rings burn my skin."

Jim flinched; Seb was still asleep, his mind still caught in the dream. He took a breath and then made a growling, purring noise, deep in his chest and throat, the one he made when he was particularly pleased with Seb, pressing soft kisses to his husband's skin. _Wake up, wake up,_ wake up.

Stirring, blinking, Seb groaned, pressing his hands to his head and shaking with tears. "I miss you, luv."

The purr changed to a snarl. That was it. He went from kissing to a swift, sharp, _hard_ bite, sinking his teeth deep into the flesh of Seb's shoulder.

"OWW! MOTHERFUCKER!" Sebastian roared, twisting and pinning Jim to the bed. "FUCK WAS THAT FOR?!"

"To snap you out of it, Seb,"

"Out of what? The fuck you on about, you little prat?"

"You were dreaming, thought that you hadn't told me yet. Thought that you were still Karl."

The sniper's breath left him in a rush as he sank down to Jim's side. "I'm sorry y'had t'see that," he whispered.

"Don't apologize," Jim said, winding his arms around Sebastian. "You're awake and we're together. All that matters."

"Why didn't you recognize me?"

He sighed. "Because you took your acting lessons from me so well that I couldn't. Or I was filing everything about you and storing it away, deep in my brain, locked up so it wouldn't hurt me again," he said softly.

"I tried to keep watch all night... must've dozed off..." His fingers played with the chain around Jim's neck. "I like you in my tags, Jimmy."

Jim flushed. "Suit you better," he mumbled.

"No, not really. I mean, they're a great leash for you t'use on me, but... I like them on you. It's sort of like the ring. Means I own you. Means you have a part of me with you."

The smaller man chuckled. "Wearing the token of my knight," he said, smiling crookedly. "I'll give them back when I'm able to wear the ring again."

"Only if you want to. Keep them as long as you want. Makes me feel like I can protect you even when not around... you think of me as your knight?"

Jim nodded. "Mmm. My blood knight, sworn to me."

Getting an idea, Seb reached into the side table for the knife he knew Jim always kept there. Pulling it out, he pricked his thumb, slipping the digit between Jim's lips. "And sworn now again."

Jim suckled the blood away, lapping at the small cut with his tongue, his eyes half-lidded. He snagged the knife from Seb and made a small nick on his own thumb and offered it to his husband. Reverently, Sebastian accepted, his tongue swirling around the soft pad of Jim's thumb, the blood metallic on his tongue.

Jim shivered and purred before he slid his thumb from Seb's mouth and pulled his head down to his, meeting Seb's lips in a hot, claiming kiss. The blonde moaned, gathering Jim into his arms and drinking him in. After several minutes, he broke it, content to just breath Jim's air. "I've got separation anxiety, I frequently have nightmares, I'm a fantastic cook, and if you sneak up on me, you might lose a kneecap."

Jim's face broke into a wide grin. "I'm the ruler of a criminal empire, I get off on blood and torture, and I have a thing for blonde-haired, blue-eyed snipers who also hunt tigers," he said.

"Which reminds me: Irish accents make my knees go weak and my cock hard."

"Well... isn't that... _fortuitous_ ," Jim said, purring into Seb's ear, purposely making his brogue thicker.

"Yeah, it is, luv. It most certainly is."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See? They're all right in the end. Big thanks to ladycorvidae. We took time out of filling 'Dreams and Fantasies' prompts to write this. We both had amazing Mormor feels due to 2 AMAZING cosplayers. They can be found here:
> 
> http://scienceofdestruction.tumblr.com/
> 
> http://skinofstripes.tumblr.com/
> 
> Read their stuff, go through everything. They'll blow your freaking breath away.


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